Puzzle Pieces
by airgloweffect
Summary: Whitney Benson, a police detective for the Shreveport PD and resident of Bon Temps for the past two years. She finds herself pulled into a tangled web when she is accused of murdering a dear friend. Things begin to unravel as more secrets are revealed and can the two vampires help her hold it all together when her past comes back to haunt her? AU OCxEricxGodric
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a story that has been bouncing around in my head for a few months and I only recently decided to sit down and write it. I am not expecting anyone to read this and am writing it more for myself. I don't write in this fandom, so don't expect the characters to be completely in character. I am still writing my other story The Dark Lord's Playbook so don't worry I haven't given it up! The first few chapters are shorter than what I normally write because I am still getting a feel for how the story will come together and the characters.**

**I am ageing Godric up because it's kinda creepy keeping him as a 16-year-old. And yes the endgame is the three of them together.**

**Obviously, I don't own True Blood or the Southern Vampire Mysteries. Anyway, I hope anyone who reads this finds it somewhat enjoyable. It does have some triggering scenes of past abuse so be warned. No judgement please as people heal in their own way.**

* * *

BON TEMPS CALLING

* * *

I groaned and clutched my head- _what the hell happened?_

My memory of last night feels fuzzy, and I feel nauseous, maybe I drunk more than I meant too? That bottle of cheap white wine did taste a bit sketchy. I try to peel my eyelids open, but they feel like they weigh as much as Pam's pastel pink minivan.

I try again and shift my body on the couch; however, I didn't take into account that it is smooth leather and I slide right off on to the floor narrowly missing the corner of the coffee table.

I blink desperately trying to keep my eyes open. I look around, and it is still dark, so where is Mason? I stand up on wobbly legs and tentatively walk into the kitchen where everything is neatly washed up and sitting on the dish drainer. I frown. Weird, but ok. I feel uneasy- but I don't know if it is just because of the headache that feels like razor blades are slicing into the back of my skull or something else.

The glowing numbers on the stove flashed violently in green that it is just after 2 am. The apartment is quiet, so maybe he went out since I passed out on his couch. It's not the first time he has left me to snooze. He trusts me, and I believe him enough that he wouldn't drain me dry in my sleep.

I search around for my handbag, locate it in the exact spot that I always put it in, slip my shoes back on, grab my leather jacket off the coat rack by the door and lock up. I enter the hallway, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. Now that I know that vampires exist, I am warier than ever going out at night- especially since I am a police officer-_ a detective_\- for the Shreveport PD.

The lights of the hallway momentarily blind me as I pull the door shut and hear the deadbolt engage. I bump into someone, but they keep walking. _God, some people are so rude!_ With the mood I'm in, I am almost inclined to give him a piece of my mind. I scowl as I hit the button to open the elevator a little too aggressively.

The doors open and there is a young couple practically devouring each other against the back wall. I roll my eyes and bite my tongue; they better not get too frisky; otherwise, I will caution them for public indecency. _Ugh, I sound like a jaded buzz kill, and I'm only 24 years old. _

They don't stop, and neither do the lewd noises coming from them- too wrapped up in each other to notice. I sigh, wondering if I'll ever have a relationship like that again. I don't trust easily, and I came to Louisiana for a change. My sole confidant circle consists of Sookie, Adele, Mason and reluctantly Eric. I know whatever I tell him it will be held close to the chest. Getting him to talk is difficult enough as it is. I think my chances of seeing pigs fly are more likely. But once someone saves your life, you open up a little. Only Sookie and Adele know the reason I am here.

The doors open and the addictive smell of roasted coffee beans permeates the lift, and I take in a deep breath. _Ahh, my first love_. I step out now ignoring the humping couple and let my excited olfactory receptors take me towards the mouth-watering smell.

There's a coffee shop on the bottom level of the apartment building that is open 24 hours; the temptation of a healthy shot of caffeine is too strong to ignore. If I could only hook up an IV to do a direct injection, I would.

It is surprisingly busy for 2 am. Still, I suppose the selection of TruBloods, Royalty Blend- and coffee _(can't forget that)_, attracts humans and vampires, who want a quiet establishment to mix without the ear-bleeding music vibrating every molecule in your body.

I join the queue and watch some of the vampire staff zip around bussing tables and making coffee at lightning speed. I wonder if they ever burn themselves doing that? My head starts to thump painfully, and I massage my temples, trying to relieve the discomfort even only for temporary relief. I don't think I have any Advil in my handbag.

"Next", I look up, and I am already second from the front- damn I must have been functioning on autopilot.

"Morning, what can I get for you?", the server was waaaay too perky for this time of the morning. I wanted to strangle her...at least until she handed me my drug of choice.

"A double shot mocha latte please", I smiled or attempted one- I probably looked like a lady either about to be committed or stumbling back into the gutter. Her resultant smile faltered..._so crazy bitch it is._

"Name, Miss?"

"Whitney", she waved me on like she couldn't get me to move from her register fast enough.

I stepped to the side and loitered with the other people grouping were our drinks will be dispensed. I looked around, feeling uncomfortable. The lights in the coffee shop were bright, like three feet from the Sun bright. Dimming them would evoke a different atmosphere for the shop- but right now I just wanted my coffee and to drive the whole 40 minutes to home on a caffeine high then slump into bed.

_"Mark" _

_"Reynold" _

_"Misty" _

"Whitney" Oh thank God. _The elixir of life_ \- is it sad that it's the reason I can get out of bed in the morning?

The street was relatively empty, and the cool breeze whipped about my face gently. I stopped next to one of the outside tables, so I could put my cup down and slip on my jacket. My handbag went across my body, and I dug my keys out ready. Walking into deserted parking lots always had me on alert as you could never be too careful being a single woman.

I made it to my Mini Cooper in British racing green_\- my parent's old car before they moved to Boca_\- and quickly getting in and locking all the doors before turning the engine on.

Soon I was taking the exit onto the 71 for the long drive home, and seeing that sign that first greeted me when I crossed state lines from Colorado almost two years ago.

_"Welcome to Bon Temps- Catfish Capitol of the South" _

I vow to make it up to Mason tomorrow since I was a horrible house guest- one that came to drink mostly, and eat what little food they kept for me, and then pass out on the couch rudely. Mason is a vampire, one of the oldest in the Shreveport area. We met through work; I needed help since I am not supernatural. He volunteered, and that's also how I met Eric for the first time, stuffing my face full of pancake at a diner. I had had a craving for them all-day and needed a bit of a pick me up after a shit day at work.

Mmmm, maybe I'll go to Merlotte's in the morning and try to convince Lafayette to make them for me with that sweet Canadian maple syrup I convinced Sam to change too.

Anyway, Mason and I hit it off, platonically of course and we have dinner every week.

I pull up in the driveway of my double-wide, my car clock tells me it's nearly 3 am. Thank God tomorrow is Saturday. I look around, and the sensor light floods the front yard. I don't want any surprises. The Cork's front yard- Elias and Hattie, partially lights up as well, which reveals Hattie's extensive lawn ornaments collection which comprises mostly of Flamingos. Now and then she will sneak a few into my front patch- _because it makes it more homely and not sad and depressin'_. I kept one or two to keep her off my back, but I know she will not stop at that singular digit amount. The woman is a menace- a lovely, kind, elderly lady- but still a menace!

I walk to the front door, wishing I had purchased another coffee even though I know it would be a bad idea. I flick all the lights on and lock the front door, then kick off my boots. Sometimes I wish I could have an animal, but I am not home consistently enough, and that wouldn't be fair to them. I felt myself falling into a hole of self-pity and loneliness- _see this is why you shouldn't drink alcohol Whit!_ Did he break me down so much that I have no self-worth? Or esteem?

I felt like crying. I sucked in a shaky breath clawing desperately at the notion that I could stop this upswell of heartache. Things will get better they had too. I escaped. _I escaped_, and I repeated that mantra as I fell into a restless sleep.


	2. Goodbye, gone

**_A/N: A trigger warning for this chapter of domestic abuse. You are warned._**

* * *

Goodbye, gone

* * *

_I stumbled back nearly slipping on the polished wood floors, my back hitting the hallway wall._

_The look on Vincent's face was pure victory- was this the moment that he finally goes too far? Kills me? Or permanently injures me?_

_Tears pricked my eyes. I should have listened to my mother, but I was so in love and so naïve._

_I saw the fist coming toward my face, but I couldn't move, I was already disoriented from the first open-palmed slap across my face. The force of his fist connecting- I saw stars. My head was slammed back into the wall, damn it hurt so much._

_Is my jaw broken?_

_He forcefully grabbed my forearms in a bruising grip. Twisting the skin as he pulls me closer._

_"This is your fault, you stupid bitch. All. Your. Fault!." Somethings will never change; it was always my fault._

_"But, I didn't dooo annythinnng 'rong", yep I think my jaw is broken, I can barely open my mouth. He shook me, and my head kept bumping into the wall._

_"You didn't do anything wrong?" he shook me violently again "Look at me when I am talking to you", I looked up into his eyes and the hate emanating from him caused a cold fear to coil around my spine. I couldn't prevent the tears from rolling down my cheeks- I was petrified this time._

_He grabbed my face, making me whimper because he dug his blunt nails into my cheek and squeeze__d__ where I think my mandible was fractured. His breath smelt strongly of alcohol, it stung my nostrils, and I wanted to gag._

_"You don't touch other men. Don't look at them. Don't talk to them. You are mine, to do as I please. If I want to beat and fuck you, I will. No whoring around like you were tonight. I thought you would have learnt your lesson by now, but clearly not. But I will now"_

_He pulled on the skirt of my dress, causing it to half rip, exposing the lower half of my body for him to view._

_"Is this what you wanted them to see? Did you want to fuck any of them? All those men watching you flounce around. Wiggling that arse and swaying those hips like a two-dollar whore" what the hell is he talking about? He's completely lost it. I stood in the corner all night, except to get one drink and a shrimp canape. _

_"I din't" I was sobbing now. I felt so humiliated._

_"Liar" Vincent grabbed my hair, viciously dragging me into the bedroom and forcing me onto the bed._

_"Yoou're huurtin' me Vin" he just narrowed his eyes and backhanded me one more time. __ I felt my lip split, and I had bitten the inside of my cheek, causing blood to flood my mouth, a little of it dribbled down my chin. He watched the droplet roll down, mesmerised by it- that he could make me bleed._

_"You don't get to speak." he yanked me by the leg, so he was in between my legs at the edge of the bed. He tore my panties off and then began touching me. I felt disgusted. In this moment I hated this man, who was supposed to love me._

_"Did. You. Want. To. Fuck?" He leant down and whispered into my ear. I shivered at his tone, revulsion pulsed through me. "I could always arrange for one of them to fuck you, and I could watch. Whore you out like the bitch you are. Would you like that, Whit? Such a dirty little whore" he penetrated me with his fingers, and I was unable to stop my body from trembling. I hoped he would kill me so I wouldn't have to endure this anymore._

I woke from the dream coated in sweat gasping for air. I haven't had a dream like that in six months, ever since Sookie finally confronted me. It felt good speaking to someone about it, unburdening myself. I still felt the guilt, shame and self-loathing- but proud that I got away. It's been two years, and I have made myself a home, and I'm happy. Mostly.

My throat was dry, and my tongue felt like sandpaper, I discreetly sniffed myself. _Yep, definitely need a shower. _Not just to wake me up but to wash away all those horrible memories. I hope never to see Vincent ever again, but if I do, I promise to kick his arse this time. I will never be made to feel weak again.

I pad out into my kitchen and set my coffee machine to start heating up the water while I shower. I would sometimes have coffee at Merlotte's, but that sludge makes me want to fling myself off the nearest bridge to get away from that imposter they call coffee.

I flicked the lights on in the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't look that bad if you consider discolouration under my eyes and my hair that looks like a birds nest that had just been through a _tornado not bad _then I guess I'm good. I twisted the tap on and stripped off my clothes, having a shower at the end of the day or this case morning, is one of my favourite activities. Having that scolding hot water running down my body and relaxing my muscles is the best feeling. _I dare anyone to deny it._

My head still felt like it was full of cotton wool- cotton wool that was bouncing around my head, thumping every surface available. Feeling refreshed, I dressed simply in skinny black jeans, a plain grey t-shirt and a long cardigan that went to my knees. I tied my hair up in a messy bun and applied some light makeup to hide the washed-out look of my skin and dark circles under my eyes. Today was my relaxing day, but I had a gut feeling that today was going to go arse overhead.

I decided perhaps a walk would clear my head. I filled my travel mug with my freshly brewed coffee-_ Sam would hate it_\- but I'll just tell him where he can stick his cheap swamp water.

It was a crisp morning still a little chilly but warming up. I just can't believe I am actually awake, a quick look at my wristwatch...10...23. Okay around about six hours, that's not too bad, but I feel as though I could sleep another twenty.

I walked past the Cork's and shook my head at the number of lawn ornaments that covered the grass. Cork Road was off Hummingbird Lane, across from the old Compton Place and a few minutes from Sookie's. I squinted and noticed a vehicle parked out the front of Compton's. I knew old Jesse Compton passed not that long ago, as far as I knew he didn't have any living relatives left. Suspicious. I snapped a discreet picture of the licence plate and made a mental note to run the plate when I was a work.

I could see Adele sweeping her front porch, and I decided to drop in to say hello since I couldn't remember if Sookie was working this morning or in the afternoon.

"Good Morning Adele", I called out and waved as I approached getting her attention. She paused and looked up a wide, friendly smile stretched her lips.

"What did I say, deary, call me Gran your part of the family", the older lady lightly scolded pulling me in for a hug. "Now, what as got you up this fine mornin'?" but before I could answer, her southern manners kicked in full gear. "Oh my lord where are my manners...did you want to come in? Can I refresh your coffee?" I smiled. Adele knew all too well my coffee addiction. She even made an effort to buy my favourite coffee, so it would always be on hand when I was visiting.

_Since when did I ever turn down coffee?_

"Sure Gran, is Sookie home?" I inquired about my friend.

"She's in there somewhere, fighting like cats and dogs with Tara", she held the door open like a proper hostess. No matter who was coming and going, Adele always upheld her southern upbringing.

I settled at the dining table, leaving my shoes and handbag by the door. I felt rude walking into her house with my shoes on. I could hear muffled voices from upstairs; one voice was distinctive- owning to one Tara Mae Thornton- _aka the pain in everyone's arse._ She certainly had fire and spirit, and it tended to rub most people the wrong way. I wasn't sure if I liked Tara or not- I was yet to be swayed either way.

"That's some serious bullshit, Sookie and you're telling me to lie down and take it?" Tara came thundering down the stairs and into the kitchen, she paused when she saw me sitting there at the end of kitchen table.

"Takin' in more strays? Any more and we are gonna have to open a kennel", my eyebrows rose at her roundabout way of calling me a bitch.

"Tara, you will stop that kinda talk when we have guests in the house", she mumbled under breath and flopped ungracefully down on a chair. Adele brought my freshly washed mug over and set it down in front of me, while the coffee machine I bought Sookie for Christmas brewed my delicious libation. I was intent on getting someone else as hooked as I was. No one could deny that it tasted better than the freeze-dried instant granules that you got from Walmart.

Sookie came a few moments later, dressed like she was going to spend the morning lying in the sun. Personally I thought it was a bit cold to do that...but Sookie never said no to tanning.

"Mornin'" she smiled brightly and turned and narrowed her eyes at Tara. Tara just rolled her eyes. I knew of Sookie's telepathy, and most of the time, I could block her out, except when I was exhausted. She hadn't met anyone who could do that. I was grateful I didn't really want someone digging in my memories- not that she would invade my privacy like that. It would destroy my trust in her.

"For heaven's sake, Tara, you need to stick to a job. If it doesn't work out you could always ask Sam?" Tara snorted.

"You can't expect me to shut my mouth when the dragon woman is being a racist bitch. I ain't puttin' up with that shit, and you can't expect me too! If she wants to discuss slave labour I'll give it to her, show her what that damn well looks like", she kept on about the place she worked that had inhumane working standards. I have no idea who in their right mind would let Tara work within a five-mile radius of people. I could only see her working for Sam ending one way. In tears and a lot of broken bottles.

"Anyway, I better go to this place of racism and get some boring shit done. See y'all bitches later", being around Tara could be stressful at times she was a handful.

"Whit, what were your plans for the rest of the day?", I hummed before answering, taking another sip of coffee.

"Well, I had planned on convincing Lafayette on making me some pancakes and stealing some of Sam's maple syrup..."

"So just a bit of theft?"

"A bit of _harmles_s theft, victimless really" Sookie snorts with laughter as she sits down with a plate full of toast.

"Your welcome to hang around. I was going to sunbathe for an hour before heading off to do the afternoon shift" I shrugged as if to say _I've got nothing better to do_ and I didn't.

Just over an hour later, I was stuffing my face full of pancake not unlike the time I met Eric. I pointed my fork at the pancakes while I spoke, with my mouth full to Lafayette who came through with the life-altering pillow-soft little flat cakes of goodness.

"Oh god these are good better than sex", his eyes lit up and lips curved up into a sly smile.

"You bet your skinny white arse theys are good. But for reals, you need to get out more" I rolled my eyes. I get out plenty just usually with criminals.

"Really? Here this is the selection" The men in the town were either complete pigs, married or mama's boys. None of them were on my list of who I would settle down with. He looked around at the less than stellar pickings.

"You got me there hooker" he tipped his imaginary hat, "I's better get back to work, laters", he flounced off, making the stretch of floor from my booth to the kitchen his personal catwalk, while flipping off the homophobic group of men in the corner. It was hard not to laugh.

I continued to look around while enjoying the remainder of my pancakes. I thought about how I came here to get away_-escape,_ but Lafayette was struggling to get out of this backwater town.

I was learning to find myself again, regaining my identity after Vincent stripped it completely. I still had a little way to go, but I was getting there.

It was just after two when I thought that I had lingered long enough putting off doing some grocery shopping that I so desperately needed. My cupboards looked they had been raided in a zombie apocalypse, except no one wanted the single jar of pickled anchovies. I don't even know how that ended up in my cupboard because I don't even eat anchovies.

Just as I made my way out the front and before I set a foot into the dusty parking lot, Andy Bellefleur and Bud Dearborn were getting out of the marked Sheriffs vehicle. Bud was a fair man, and he did a decent job, but that's it. He wasn't one to go that extra step- although to be honest there isn't a lot of crime in Bon Temps because everyone knows everyone.

"Sheriff, Andy" I greeted them as I went to walk past, to begin my trek back home.

"Can we talk to you for a moment Miss Benson?", I could hear the nervousness is Bud's voice, and that put my hackles up, I knew I was not going to like whatever they were about to say. I turned and crossed my arms defensively, jutting my chin out stubbornly I was not going to make this easy for them.

"Well, you see..." he started patting down all his pockets searching for something. "Damn I thought it was here. An-andy do you have it?", he looked to Andy questioningly.

The other man shrugged and then held his hands up like this _thing_ they were looking for had touched the plague and wanted nothing to do with it.

"Bud, just spit it out" I snapped losing what little patience I had for the duo and this situation.

"We're going to need you to come with us" I frowned that was not what I was expecting. They looked at each other and Andy, looked down and away.

"Why?" I was beginning to think this wasn't a social call, but something serious.

"Miss Benson, we don't want to do this here...out the front of Merlotte's", Just as I was about the ask again, _what the hell is going on? _Sookie came bursting out of the entryway resulting in the screen door banging violently against the wood panelling. She ran down the stairs with her hand raised and index finger poised, ready to punctuate the point she was about to make.

"Now you listen to me, both of you should be ashamed of yourselves. Whitney did no such thing, and here you are wasting time!" to their credit they did look ashamed; they didn't want to do this but had no choice. However, I still had no idea what _this _is.

"Can someone before I die of old age tell me what the hell is going on?" I asked with my hands on my hips. I felt like a mother scolding her children.

Andy cleared his throat, and I was surprised that it was him that was about to say it, but Sookie beat him to the punch.

"They want to arrest you for..._murder_" she quietened down and scrunched her nose up when she said _murder_ like she couldn't stand to have the word roll off her tongue.

"_What? Who?" _was this a joke? My eyes darted between them because this could not be real. It was ridiculous!

"No, can you just come with us down to the station and we will explain further" Andy droned out monotonously. He seemed to be over this whole farce as much as I was.

"Not until I know who I supposedly murdered" I was not going to budge until I did. I was determined to get to the bottom of this because it had to be a mistake.

Bud yelled out abruptly "Ah-Ha! I knew I had it" he smiled, but no one else did. Sookie stepped back up beside me taking my hand in hers, a silent supporter in this burgeoning nightmare.

He roughly unfolded the scrunched paper and tried to press out some of the crinkles on his thigh.

"Miss Whitney Benson is to be detained...yadda yadda...vampire citizen Mason Stone", I blinked and it felt like the metaphorical rug had been pulled out from underneath me.


	3. Why Do I Deserve This?

Why Do I Deserve This?

* * *

I felt like all the air had been sucked from my lungs. I could barely process the thought that Mason was dead. I clutched onto Sookie, like a lifeline to prevent me from being pulled under by the strong tides of grief.

Tears burned in my eyes akin to acid on skin. The stinging helped cut through the fog that my thoughts seemed to be getting lost in. I shook my head as if something so simple would clear my mind.

Sookie was yelling at Bud and Andy again but I wasn't focusing on what she was saying. I was still stuck on the devastating fact that Mason was dead, like dead _dead_.

"Fine I'll go" I don't know how I spoke but the words came out. The detective side of my brain knew that if I wanted answers then I would have to go with them. I wanted answers and I wanted to find the real killer. I was being framed for the murder of my friend and I will not rest until I solved the case. They were all wasting time focusing on me, when the killer was out there doing god knows what.

"But Whit you can't!" Sookie pleaded with me, grabbing the sleeves of my cardigan tightly.

"No Sook I need to. The only way to get this resolved as quickly as possible is to get it over with." She looked distressed but resigned to the fact that I was going to do this.

"What can I do?", I appreciated her determination, but right now there was nothing she could do.

"Just your continuing support. Don't worry I'll have this sorted out soon enough", I sounded strong, but I didn't feel it.

I let Bud and Andy lead me away and I got in the back of the cruiser by myself glaring at Andy when he went to try to open the door for me. It was petty but I wasn't feeling charitable.

The ride was silent, I was lost in thought about how this could happen. I was glad they had enough sense not to say anything, because I really wasn't in the mood for talking. I wondered how my colleagues where taking this, I wondered if they really did believe that I could murder Mason. I wasn't afraid to say Mason was my friend or Eric when asked about it, but I didn't broadcast it either. I didn't feel like I had too nor should I because it was my private business. I shouldn't have to justify who I am friends with to narrow minded thinkers.

I was more open minded than most of the people I worked with. I was surprised when they _'came out of the coffin' _and a little excited, but at the end of the day I viewed them as people because they _were_ in both interpretations or tenses of the word. A lot of the general public have gotten caught up in the hate rhetoric and would rather live in fear than just going about their lives, probably never to come into contact with vampires. If they were really that desperate they could move to Montana. Or Greenland. But the warmongering was increasing with the establishment of that _church_ \- _religious institution was stretching the definition_. Run by Steve Newlin; I knew his parents had died and while I sympathize, trying to incite a war with beings that could kill us all in two seconds flat is rather stupid. That was the main reason I was the unofficial liaison in the department, because I didn't idolise them, didn't pander or throw myself at their feet in reverence. I acted normal. I respected them and I expected them to treat me the same way in return. And they did once they got past their own suspicions and realised I didn't have some nefarious ulterior motive.

I hope this doesn't blow everything I had worked for over the past two years.

Once inside they booked everything I had on me which wasn't much just my purse. I refused to do a proper mugshot and just stuck my tongue out instead. Andy just sighed and put me in the last cell- which was empty. I was just glad he didn't stick me in the drunk tank. I sat there mentally preparing myself for the long night ahead.

I tried concentrating on making a list in my head of what I need to do going forward, but it was hard with the drunk that was already in there at this time of the afternoon singing a bad and off key rendition of Aerosmith's _Walk this Way. _

_"Shut up I'm trying to think!"_ he paused and rolled off the bench seat he was lying down on, landing face first on the concrete floor. I waited for a reaction other than a grunt of pain, but he just raised his head and started singing _I will survive _instead. It was going to be a long night if he kept that up.

_Will this insanity ever end?_

After hours of painful singing, the drunk was snoring heavily. I prayed for the powers of telekinesis so that I could strangle him from here and put an end to one part of my misery.

Later Kendra came in with an intoxicated Jane Bodehouse. I snorted _when wasn't that woman drunk? _

"Whitney" she nodded when she caught my gaze. I decided this was my chance to ask for my phone call, now that the sun had gone down. I'm not sure why I felt to urge to call who I was going to call but I knew that he would help. Well, I hoped he would. Despite Eric saying we are not friends because _he doesn't need friends, _he was always there when it counted.

"Kenda, when you have a moment can I use my phone call to organise somethings please?", I spoke in the most polite professional voice I could muster in that moment.

She gave me a look in return that I couldn't decipher, then answered "Sure, give me fifteen minutes to prepare the room". She thrust Jane into the drunk tank with the other man still snoring rather loudly. "Jane, don't you even think about touching that man!" The drunk woman pouted and sat in the opposite side of the cell watching the man with a leering expression. I shuddered.

Kendra gave her one last stern look, spun on her heel and walked back down the corridor. After a few seconds, I could hear her yell out to her partner Kevin.

True to her word fifteen minutes later, she came in stopping outside my cell. I sat there watching her wondering if she was going to cuff me as protocol dictated. Not that I would do something. But I could see her weighing up the options.

"I'm not gonna have to use these am I?" She brandished a pair of cuffs, the metal rings swinging on her index finger like she was trying hypnosis.

"Kendra, do I look like a moron?" I huffed a little offended that she would think I would risk it all at a half-arsed escape.

"Just checking, you never know these days." The jingling of the keys as she unlocked the cell door was music to my ears, even if the freedom was temporary at this stage. "We have set up interrogation room two for you to use." I walked out and stepped to the side, waiting, not sure if she wanted me to walk in front of her.

He flapped her hands in a _get moving _gesture. I sighed and stomped ahead- I knew where I was going, I just didn't want to be rude.

She opened the door to the sparsely decorated room with a simple office desk and chair with a phone smack bang in the middle.

"I'll leave you to it" she closed the door and I heard the lock click in place. I slumped down on the chair and held my head in my hands allowing myself a few moments of self pity. Letting my walls crumble then building them back up again. I hesitated before reaching for the receiver, _was I making the right choice?_ Despite leaving Vince two years ago and how strong I may look like to the people around me I still had trouble making decisions for myself. It was foreign. I had been with Vince since I was seventeen and even then he made a lot of my decisions for me, before it became natural just to defer to him. I lost my identity and I am slowly trying to rebuild that. I didn't want to end up making the same mistakes.

I pick up the phone because even though my pride doesn't want to give up control, I know I need help. I dial his number that I have memorised in case of emergencies and what for him to pick up.

"How do you have this number?" there is a deadly edge to the voice that if he could reach through to phone and throttle the person calling he would.

"Eric" I manage to get out, not my usual confident self. Even to my ears, I sounded lost and shaky. My heart is pumping so fast I'm positive Eric can hear it through the ancient Bakelite phone in mustard yellow.

"Shortstack?" his voice is neutral, and I'm glad he isn't making a joke. But I get a warm feeling at hearing my nickname "Your heart is beating frantically. Are you in fear?" _Damn him and his freaky hearing._

"I need help" I breathe out the puff of air I was holding in waiting for his answer.

"Name it." I could the music in the background beginning to fade, he must have been walking back to his office.

"I've been arrested", he barks out a small laugh at the incredulity of it. If I wasn't so stressed about the situation I would have laughed with him.

"You goody toe shoes arrested? What did they cuff you for? J-walking? Not paying a parking fine?" he's laughing more now and it draws the seething anger that I pushed aside for grief flooding to the surface.

I snap.

"This isn't funny Eric I was arrested for murder..." at _murder_ he immediately ceases chuckling " they think I killed Mason which of course I didn't. I have no idea what is going on" I finish and I can hear something crash off his desk I presume.

"Are they insane? Their incompetence will never cease to amaze me. And as Sheriff no one has informed me of a crime against a vampire under my fealty" I wipe the tears away stinging my cheeks and then snort.

"Eric they are probably too scared of you to tell you, that's why it was always left to me to do it"

He sighs but it is more of a growl of frustration. I imagine him sitting at his desk squeezing the Viking stress squeezy figurine that I got him for Christmas last year. I even sent one to his maker Godric but had it made to resemble the comic book character Asterix the Gaul. I remember Eric saying that he hadn't spoken to Godric in some time and he seemed forlorn. Even though I don't know Godric, I sent him the little gag gift and asked him to please mend his relationship with Eric. He hadn't, but I am not giving up hope yet- _even if I have to drive to Dallas myself and drag the 2000-year-old vampire by the scruff of his neck to Eric. _He didn't know I did it.

"I will organise everything on my end- I'll contact my lawyer, don't worry shortstack I won't let you go to jail"

"Thanks, Eric", I started tearing up again ashamed of my weakness- this wasn't like me, but then again it wasn't every day you were arrested for the murder of a close friend.

"Goodbye Whitney", I whispered goodbye as well and gently hung up the phone even though I felt like ripping it from the wall socket in anger.

_Why me?_


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry this took so long my son was sick and I'm super busy with the lead up too Christmas!

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR

* * *

I was returned to my cell, and I tried to sleep a little even though the harsh lighting made it almost impossible to. I bunched my cardigan up underneath my head and curled up on the bench. My head was still pounding, _would this headache ever go away? _Being emotionally wrought and feeling sick didn't help my mood.

It was driving me crazy, not knowing- _I hate waiting_. I was forced into my head and often, the cruellest person was my inner voice. After years of being torn down and beaten, my self-worth had suffered. I tried to divert my thoughts, but I couldn't stop thinking about Mason, did he suffer? Was I still there at the apartment? Did it happen while I was sleeping? _That horrified me if it was true._

_What pathetic excuse of a police officer are you Whitney?_

_You should be ashamed of yourself._

_You will never amount to anything without me._

_Your nothing but a tight pussy to shove my dick into each night that's all your good for._

_You are mine; no-one else will have you_

_You are mine_

_You are mine_

_You are mine_

I slammed the shutters down hard on my spiralling thoughts. My breathing was laboured, and bile clawed at my throat. I rolled off the bench and reached for the bucket in time to heave up the contents of my stomach. I sit back against the wall, closing my eyes and trying to control my breathing. Minutes later, a fresh batch of dry retching overcomes me, and I claw at the bucket as my stomach desperately tries to expel the contents that are non-existent.

Sweat is beading my brow, my hair a tangled mess and all I can smell and taste is vomit. I really should get up off the floor of the cell, but I can't make my limbs move. Hot tears spill onto my sensitive cheeks, stinging them. I feel utterly pathetic at this moment, but I promise myself this is the last time I will cry. I need to contain my grief so I can concentrate on finding Mason's killer.

I wake later half lying half-sitting awkwardly against the cell wall and still clutching the bucket of vomit. There's banging against the bars, and at first, I want to tell them to fuck off because my head is still pulsing.

I blink lazily, the pull of unconsciousness is still tugging at the corners of my mind threatening to drag me back under. But that persistent tapping is becoming too hard to ignore.

"Alright, fucking hell", well that's what I want to say,

But my words are slurred and thick with sleep. My tongue feels heavy and rough like sixty grit sandpaper. I smell horrid, and my skin is sticky from the layers of dried sweat. _Gross._

I manage to hold my eyelids open long enough, though a little blurry to see who was banging on the cell bars. There was a man there dressed in an expensive, neatly pressed suit and a wool trench coat holding a brown leather briefcase.

"Anytime Miss Benson, when you feel like getting off the filthy floor, we can leave" I struggled to get off the floor on shaky legs, if I didn't feel entirely like I had been through the wringer I would have snapped at him. _This is what a lack of caffeine, does to you in the morning-unable to string two words together._ I knew it wasn't solely the lack of caffeine, flowing through my veins, but it was easier to blame it on that.

I tentatively took a few cautious steps, to test my balance, and since I didn't tip over, I figured I was good to go. Scrubbing my hands over my face, I asked the man, albeit muffled, "who are you?"

"Impatient", I rolled my eyes, _who pissed in his cheerios?_

"Okay, it's not like you had to sleep on a concrete floor next to a bucket of vomit", I scowled feeling disgruntled and off-put by his priggishness.

He sighed loudly, and I felt like beating him over the head with my shoe. It was exaggerated, and it wasn't like I knew he was coming. Honestly, I wanted to go home, shower and scrub myself red raw not deal with this prat.

"I don't have all day, Miss Benson and you are costing Mr Northman good money while _dawdling_." My jaw slackened at his tone. I was not impressed at feeling like I was being accosted like a toddler when he had only been here no more than five minutes. The thought of Eric paying for this made my stomach roll. I didn't like being indebted to anyone. I didn't like that they had taken that sliver of independence away from me.

It was humiliating.

This man right now was rubbing it in, and he knew it too.

Snatching my cardigan off the bench and accidentally kicking the bucket over, I hurried over to the man I knew to be a lawyer. He looked vindicated in his assumption that I was indeed dawdling.

_Now I wanted to sit down just to annoy him further._

I hadn't even noticed Kevin standing off to the side, looking like he was caught between bewilderment and slinking off in fear. Kevin wasn't the most confident person. I often wondered why he chose to be a police officer; his disposition leaned more towards kindergarten teacher.

"Officer Ellis, can you open the cell so Miss Benson and I can be on our way please?" the man yet to be named asked; a saccharine smile gracing his lips but he was anything but sweet.

"SSh-sure Mr C", Kevin stuttered, the keys jostling, clinking noisily on the heavy silver chain they were attached too as he tried to unlock the cell quickly.

"Thanks, Kev" I tried to give him a reassuring smile, but I just couldn't muster it after the last 24 hours.

"Come we have some paperwork to sort out before we get you...well to your humble dwellings so you can bathe", I glared at his derisive tone and got the sense that this man was not human- _not entirely at least_. Either that or the man is just a grade A arsehole that didn't have a second gear.

I stomped ahead not caring whether they followed me or not. A lawyer or not, paid or not, needed or not- he could stick it.

"Miss Whitney you need to wait" _sorry Kev learn to keep up._

Kendra looked up from the front desk, the buttons on the keyboard clacking away as she typed something. Without missing a beat, she slapped the paperwork in front of me without looking up from the screen. I scanned it and quickly signed just wanting to get out of here. I knew the paperwork backwards and forwards, not worried about anything coming back to bite me on the ass as I didn't commit the crime in the first place.

"Was that wise Miss Benson? We haven't even gone over everything" I crossed my arms and gave him a challenging look. "It's your prerogative", I turned back to the desk, and Kendra had my handbag sitting on top of the grey laminate counter.

I hauled it off not bothering to say thanks because_ what would I say thank you for? Thanks for my night in jail?_

"Miss Benson" I ignored him and kept walking until I made it outside. The harsh sunlight was beating down on me, hurting my eyes.

"Miss Benson, stop."

"Stop what being a giant prick?" I turned around with my own sweet mocking smile.

"I'm trying to help you here, and you are not making it easy" I snorted loudly and held my hand up for him to stop talking.

"No so far, you've mocked me and treated me like a child. I'm not in a charitable mood right now. I've had a shit night, I smell like vomit, my throat hurts, and I've been accused of murdering my friend so sorry for not _making it easy for you.". _

He stared at me for a long time, then seemingly concluding his thoughts, he extended his hand out for me to take. I hesitated, before reaching out reluctantly and shaking his hand.

"Desmond Cataliades at your service", now everything felt awkward as we stood outside the station not saying anything.

"Do you need a ride home? We can discuss the police case on the way", I nodded along with him, before he held his hand out gesturing me to follow him to his car. I didn't like this, the feeling of vulnerability. I didn't think he would try anything; he didn't seem the type- _but then again, you never know._

I sat as close as I could shuffle in the seat to the door of his sleek black BMW. He didn't comment.

He cleared his throat to get my attention while fiddling with the AC fan settings; faint classical music played in the background.

"What they have is purely circumstantial, since you are regularly at his place of residence. However, no other prints but yours were on the murder weapon, that was particularly difficult to argue away- but with supernatural cases, there is a degree of leeway", before he continued on I halted him asking what the weapon was.

"It was rather a cliche- a garden stake", if it weren't totally depressing I would have laughed at the unoriginality of it.

"I know why my prints were on it. We had been shopping the week before at Home Depot. I was helping him organise the development of the rooftop garden for the building. What I don't understand is how someone his age was killed- I mean how they can think I managed to kill an 800-year-old vampire? The Home depot should still have the tapes to verify my story". I turned away and looked out the window as the countryside flew by.

"I'll get those tapes this afternoon, the sooner we can move on from that the sooner they can stop looking at you. Although I don't really think they believe you did it. They just need a scapegoat. The AVL is rather...like a bull in a china shop. They want this over with quickly no matter the cost" I groan loudly, and pull at my hair in frustration.

"And I just happen to be the easiest solution, except I didn't do it. It's a mystery", I was scared to know, but I needed to know for my own safety. "How is everyone taking it?" I was hoping he knew I meant the vampire community in Shreveport and not have to spell it out for him.

"Eric is tightening the reigns. The older ones know you didn't do it, and you have earned their respect, the younger ones are a different case hence the reigns." I briefly caught his reflection in the glass; it was emotionless- at least he wasn't being an arsehole anymore.

"I did some digging..."

"I don't want to talk about it, and you will _never_ mention it again." I was rather adamant and monumentally pissed off at him for invading my privacy. And wondered how he found out. I could feel panic rising, gripping me tightly.

"You are allowed to go back to work, but for obvious reasons not allowed near Mason's case" my muscles relaxed marginally, but my mind was still tangled like a ball of yarn. However, just because they said no didn't mean I wasn't going to skirt around it- _fuck that_. I had had enough people fucking up my life and if they thought I was going to sit back and take it...well they had another thing coming.

I hummed a non-committal agreement, not wanting to engage in conversation further. I slipped into my thoughts and leant my head against the cool glass, letting the gentle rocking of the car lull me into a relaxed state. My head was still throbbing, the ache making me in a perpetual state of nauseousness. I hoped I could get a good night sleep because I was not looking forward to returning to work and having a slightly uncomfortable conversation with my captain.

I could only imagine the giant mountain of paperwork that was atop my desk. Because I would be treated like a penned in a toddler with nowhere to go or escape.

Sooner than I had anticipated we were pulling up out the front of my double-wide, everything looking the same as it was as if my life hadn't entirely been upended in the last twenty-four hours. I felt something rise up within in me that hinted at bitterness. _But I was not going to analyse that now._

I reached for the door handle, the soft, supple leather of the armrest skimming underneath my fingertips. Clutching my handbag in one hand and the other pulling the release mechanism, Mr Cataliades voice halting any further action of exiting the vehicle.

"Be careful, Miss Benson, you never know who is watching" I froze, my mind screeching to a halt as I toss his words around in my head. It felt ominous and a sudden sharp spike of fear shot through me, but like sand slipping through my fingers it was gone.

"Thank you, for your help" I kept my voice as even as I could, trying not to let him know that his words rattled me a little. I gently closed the door and watched him drive off down the road, the shiny black vehicle so out of place in the backroads of Louisiana. I sighed and scrubbed my face- I felt grimy. A nice hot shower would be lovely as well as a toothbrush. As I unlocked my front door the odd sensation of deja-vu flooded me. The thought was troublesome, and it made my skin itch.

I couldn't shake the feeling that something was looming on the horizon, and things were going to get worse before they got better.


	5. Clear and Tangible Life choices

_**CLEAR AND TANGIBLE LIFE CHOICES**_

* * *

_**Two days later...**_

I loiter outside the station not keen on what's coming; maybe I'll be saved by someone committing a crime that requires me to leave. Or calls in a bomb threat.

I haven't had enough coffee to have my arse railed against by the hierarchy. My head is in a perpetual state of thumping. It's like an alien movie where the alien erupts out of a body part and mine is the head. I have downed five Advil, I'm keenly aware you are not supposed to do that but anything to take an edge off at this point I will do.

I look at my watch. I'm already ten minutes late, my stalling for something miraculous is moot. Now I'm just wasting precious case-solving time. I crush the cardboard takeaway cup in my hand, the plastic lid popping off and landing on the ground spinning wildly — a_ clear and tangible representation of my life._

I just knew today was going to be shit; I still had Vincent's voice ghosting my every thought. Hell, he was ghosting my dreams at this point. Telling me, I'm worthless and just making me doubt myself and every decision. It was exhausting. I thought I had finally put all of that behind me, but what happened with Mason seems to have dredged it back up.

I made my way to the entry of the Shreveport PD; it was in a concrete box of a building which Mason called an ode to brutalism. Somehow I didn't think that it was a compliment.

I avoid everyone's gazes, just wanting to make my way to my floor in peace without altercation. It didn't stop the whispers.

Exiting the elevator, I hurry over to my desk, which is thankfully not in the middle of the bullpen. But just as I think I can slink away, my sergeant stops me, his face fixed with a stern glare_. Here we go._

He marched up to me and hauled me over into an empty office that we usually used for team meetings.

"What on god's green earth is happenin'?" he does a reasonable job of controlling his southern accent, because sometimes it can be so thick I have no idea what he is saying. His hands slam down on the generic office table, making it wobble.

"What kind of question is that?" I crossed my arms over my chest, getting defensive. I didn't like what he was implying or going to in a few seconds.

"Beings accused of murder Whitney! This is goings to upset the vamps in a significant way. The department is unders the microscope. We can't have that!" he threw his hands up in a dramatic way. His exasperation was aimed at me like it was my fault this department was under scrutiny.

"It's not like I did it, for fuck's sake. How can anyone in their sound mind believe I actually did it?" That's what I could wrap my head around was that they actually think I offed a vampire. I felt flattered they think I have the _Je ne sais quoi _to do such a thing, but really I'd have to have balls of steel.

"Yous know as well as I do the propaganda the Newlin's are spewing. Your predicament plays well for their _narra-tives_", I sighed and slumped down into the hard plastic chair wishing it would swallow me whole and save me from this clusterfuck.

"Just what I need" I mumbled to myself.

The door handle turned, and Captain Rollason stood in the doorway, he first looked to sergeant Issacs then to me. He was a man of few words, that could command an entire station on non-verbal body language- a raising of an eyebrow, a twitch of a lip, narrowing of the eyes and a flick of a wrist. It was uncanny.

"Detective Benson. Sergeant Isaacs, is everything satisfactory?" I _wanted to yell and say no nothing is okay_, but I knew he meant right here and right now. Instead, I bit my tongue and nodded like a demented puppet. It made my head hurt.

"Yes, sir Is just talkin' to Detective Benson about the recent events and how's it affectin' the station." Captain Rollason with a stoic look, tilted his head marginally- _to the left- if it was to the right then you knew you were doomed_\- finishing with a minuscule nod.

"Detective Benson, could you accompany me to my office. I believe we have some matters to discuss and rectify" he stepped out of the doorway and gestured with his hand for me to proceed first; after all, he was a southern gentleman.

"Serge"

"Keeps your heads on straight Whit-ney. I don'ts want any more nonsense!" I smiled as I walked passed, he may be a prick most of the time, but he did care about his subordinates.

I made a beeline for the captain's office, dodging and weaving other detectives and a few criminals. The Captain had a matching red oak desk and bookcase, one would think that he would have chosen a more masculine wood-like Jarrah or cherry, but it suited him. Clean and practical- that was the Captain.

The door closed behind me with a soft click, and I stood in front of his desk with my hands entwined behind my back. I didn't think this was the time to be relaxed and making myself at home.

"You can take a seat Detective Benson" he drawled out evenly without emotion- I swear sometimes I secretly think he is a robot in disguise.

"I'm fine thank you, sir. I think I know what this is about." I kept constant eye contact. I was not about to show weakness. I had learnt early on that being a woman in a male-dominated workforce. I had to hold my own; otherwise, I would get steamrolled. That being said, some of them didn't appreciate a strong woman, and I was often labelled a frigid bitch or a slut sleeping her way to the top. I think men are just afraid of a woman's vagina.

"How are you holding up? I know that these are less than ideal circumstances, and for what it is worth, I do not believe you did it. But we cannot simply disregard the evidence, because of our personal feelings." I shifted uncomfortably, and I had to break the eye contact. Captain Rollason was the stare master- he could outstare anyone. I've seen hardened criminals break under his gaze all without saying a word. I held my tongue because I think he expected a comment of some sort and for a brief second I wanted too. But thinking better of it- i couldn't ask any cop to disregard evidence it would open a massive can of worms. Every damn defence lawyer would come out of the woodwork and contest every detail about how the evidence was collected and was the chain of evidence compromised at any point. I knew I wasn't worth it and I know Mason would have been appalled if I did it. So no I wasn't going to ask anyone to compromise their ethics because in reverse I wouldn't want anyone asking me to do it.

"I am going to be blunt Miss Benson; my higher-ups were not keen to keep you here. They believe that it reflects badly on the department, while I do not believe they think you did it or frankly care if you did, they only want the PR nightmare to go away. However, Mr Eric Northman has stuck his metaphorical neck out for you and threatened them within an inch of their lives, if they pull you out of the department." I couldn't help the small smile at picturing Eric looming over them, telling them that he would rip out their entrails with his bare hands and then strangle them with it or something equally disturbing and disgustingly bloodthirsty.

"I see you find Mr Northman's colourful methods of dealing death to your superiors a beguilement", I tried to curb my amusement, but I needed a good laugh- even if that was picturing the impending demise of my superiors then so be it. I dared to look Captain Rollason in the eyes, and while he looked as serious as always, there was a small amount of mirth that brightened his eyes.

"Sorry, sir. It is unprofessional of me", he waved me off.

"It will remain a confidential matter that never leaves this room. But on a serious note, do you need compassionate leave? I understand you and Mr Stone were close."

I sucked in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before releasing it slowly.

"Yes were close, not in an intimate way but more like siblings. I need to keep busy, and Mason wouldn't want me moping around. He lived a good long life and to be honest; it is the world that is missing out, not him. He was a good man despite what some people are saying about vampires." he regarded me for a long moment before finally speaking.

"I admire your dedication to improving relations between the vampires and us. I am aware of your unofficial role in paving the road for that in the department...it is a badly kept secret. That being said, officially you will keep out of the investigation if I even hear a whiff of you near it I will suspend you." he pauses and gives me a stern look- a knowing look. I blink, turning the words over in my mind and it snags on the word _officially- _ I get the sense that he means unofficially I can poke around as long as it doesn't jeopardise anything. I nod once letting him know I follow. "What is the status report on the robbery case from Stanton Street? Any connection to the one on Broadway?" I felt relief flow through me, my muscles letting go of some of the tension I was holding. Work I can focus on work- _work_ I _can_ do.

"It appears as the same person or persons have committed them but, they have been very good at covering their tracks. We have very little evidence, but I'm working on it. I know there's a connection between the cases I feel it in my gut. There's something I am missing and I need to find it". I could hear the determination smothering the words as they left my lips. The captain nodded, accepting my elucidation as to why my report was presently _thin. _It wasn't pleasant as a detective who had one of the best closing rates of cases from my cohort to have a case where I was grasping at straws.

"Ok. But if you need time just let me know" I shook my head vigorously.

"No, Sir. I won't change my mind, besides if I take it some of my colleagues will comment incessantly about my emotional status as a woman who can't hack it." he sighs and runs a hand through his short greying hair- it was an act of frustration- directed at me and possibly the boys club out in the bullpen. He looked like he was going to say something then changed his mind at the last second.

"I will desist my questioning of you and let you go back to work. Dismissed" there was a twinge of guilt, I think, at the disappointment, I seemed to spark within in him at that moment. But he needed to understand I didn't need or want any more complications in my life. I turned sharply on my heel, and the motion caused another spike of pain to tear through my occipital lobe like a quick flash of lightning. The sudden eruption caused my vision to blur momentarily, making me stumble out of the captains' office like I was on a drunken bender.

"Are yous alright, Miss Whitney?" I shifted towards the voice while rubbing my eyes with the heels of my palms in a stilted manner, revealing my annoyance.

"I'm fine thanks, Serge, just a headache coming on", I smiled wearily wondering if this headache was ever going to go away.

"Well you gets yourself some Advils and take 'em quick smart, crime waits for no one", his face was mottled red- he had been clearly yelling at someone else- the most likely recipient was Detective Pickford the man was lazy with a capital L.

"Yes, sir" I nodded, giving him a quick salute.

"See that yous do- now gets back to work" I walked over to my desk with all the grace I could muster and sat heavily in my chair- eyeing the mountain of paperwork with disdain. I thought briefly that I could make it to the end of the day, the persistent hum of background noise would cause this deep throbbing to turn into like someone had shoved a crowbar into my skull- _but I could deal with it_\- with copious amounts of coffee and enough Advil to take down a horse. That was until...

"_GETS YOURSELFS BACK TO WORK THIS AIN'TS REC TIME! LEWENDOVSKI GETS YOUR FEETS OFF THE TABLE AND STRAIGHTEN YOURS TIE- I DON'T WANTS TO SEE YOU, PEOPLE, LOOKINGS LIKE A BUNCH O' HILLBILLIES!"_

I winced, it was going to be one of those days were the serge felt like people were slipping into old habits- _getting too comfortable_. So he liked to yank on the reins so to speak to pull everyone back into line. I saw more screaming in my imminent future.

I pulled open my top desk drawer and rummaged for some Advil or other pain medication of some description, finding the half-crushed box that was open at both ends. I looked around, glaring, someone had been into my draw while I was away. Being one of the only women in the department meant- somehow I was automatically designated their nagging mother. I rolled my eyes- how these men managed to look after themselves, I will never know. I popped four out and headed towards the break room. The coffee wasn't the greatest- more like burnt brown water, but it would hit the caffeine mark.

I returned to my desk minutes later, piping hot mug on my hand. I set down the coffee and shuffled my files while trying to get my thoughts into some sort of order. This robbery case was frustrating. I knew I was missing something _but what_. I flipped open both the files and fanned the photos of each out- I knew it was pointless waiting for the forensics on Stanton Street because if it were anything like Broadway, it would be clean- well clean in the sense of nothing out of the ordinary. I groaned. I grabbed a pen and opened my notebook to a new page. I will start from the beginning.

* * *

**Later That Evening**

_Oh my fucking God._

This tasted amazing- soft, buttery, but flaky- _not dry. _Tart sweetness and a burst of cinnamon hit my tongue. Fuck this apple pie was life-changing.

"Oh lord, this is so good Adele. Can I adopt you? Take you home with me?"

"Now now Whitney dear you know you're welcome anytime. A place at the table will always be set for you" she patted my shoulder gently, and I could feel tears sting my eyes. I momentarily missed my parents. I wasn't going to begrudge them the retirement they had been dreaming about since I could understand.

"Thanks, Adele", when she wasn't looking I would sneak some money into her grocery tin. I felt a kick to my shin seconds after the words passed through my mind. I shot a glare at Sookie as I reached down to rub the abused appendage. She just shrugged one shoulder. I directed my thoughts at her - _she would never take the money outright, and you know it. _Adele would never, so it is easier to do it in a subtle way that her pride would never be brought into question.

"Don't you glare at me Whit I'm still irritated that you didn't want us to help you! You're not alone in everything, and we could have done something" I shook my head in disagreement. While I adored them for wanting to assist me, I still preferred to try to do everything alone. I needed that control over my life after a few years of not having any.

"You have your own life, and I needed to work this out myself. Besides, there wasn't anything for you to do. My lawyer bailed me out and I spoke to my captain- everything is ok for now" I didn't inform them about the AVL or the brass, I didn't want them to worry. I had to shield those thoughts as much as possible to stop Sookie from getting wind of it- plus Sookie had a habit of running headfirst into situations without thinking all bluster and not much of a plan. She was reckless and stubborn, and that was, at times a problematic combination.

She still had that defiant glint in her eye that let me know that this conversation was _not over_. But she let it drop, due to Adele making a disapproving noise behind her because talk like this at the dinner table was unacceptable.

"Well, how was the last couple of days? Any more Tara shenanigans I need to worry about?" But then again when was Tara not embroiled in some personal drama? Honestly, by this point, I would be more surprised by her _not _stirring up trouble. I haphazardly stabbed the slice of apple pie making the structure topple to the side, twisting at the entry point of where the fork penetrated the too crust- leaving me with only a tiny crumb clinging to the steel prongs. I huffed and stabbed a little more aggressively at the pastry, making the fork scrape harshly against ceramic. I cringed and mouthed sorry to Adele, blushing slightly in embarrassment.

"She got fired, but no surprise there" I snorted in amused agreement.

"She's just not a people person. Her mouth frightens people" I followed up Sookie's observation.

"The truth, you mean?" Her brows scrunched downwards trying to grasp where my train of thought was headed as she asked the question.

"If you mean the blunt, unfiltered truth then yes" she smiled widely and her eyes were twinkling with a genuine innocence- in fact, her aura radiated this _pureness, _and I don't mean in a sexual manner- despite what she often saw in people's heads. She was the kind of person that drew you in, and you couldn't help be pulled into her orbit. A celestial body orbiting the Sun. She was blinding. It had crossed my mind more than once if she was part supernatural in a small degree. I thanked my lucky stars that she couldn't read my mind all the time.

"She got outta there quick smart like a prairie dog duckin' for cover."

"She maybe has done that, but I bet she threw a few verbal grenades on her way out" I fired back making Sookie laugh and slapping the table.

"When does Tara ever not shut her mouth? She yelled out in the foyer that the Dragon woman was a racist bitch and who enjoys slave labour. I mean it is one thing to do it one on one but to yell it out was perhaps a step too far" I know Sookie didn't want to bad mouth her best friend- and Tara was a good friend she just needed to exercise some self-restraint. We all have to work with people we don't like or just plainly don't work well together, but being a mature adult means you have to suck it up sometimes to do your job.

"You think?" I tried not to smile as I imagined Tara causing a scene.

"Speaking of... I..ah...I met someone interesting the other night" I noticed the blood perfusing Sookies' cheeks as she tilted her head in a shy manner. Ahhh..._a gentleman_ well I hope he was a gentleman or I will make his life difficult in creative ways. I shifted in my seat, while I was happy for Sookie if everything worked- being in an intimate relationship was something I longed for but was absolutely scared _shitless_\- for lack of a better descriptive word.

"Ok...what was he like?" I twiddled the fork as my eyes bored holes into Adele's table, waiting for her recount of events.

"Oh Whit he was a proper southern gentleman" she punctuated _proper southern gentlemen, _with slight pauses in between the words. I looked up, and she had a dreamy look to her face as she was staring off behind me obviously caught up in a vision of the night they met. "Mysterious too! Dark-haired, a little taller but not much. And guess what?" she reached out lightning fast as she squealed and latched on to my hand holding the fork. I was a little startled that my heartbeat picked up. I hated being startled, caught off guard. Something sick curled in my stomach- it was one of the things that brought up unpleasant memories.

Bile threatened the back of my throat, but Sookie was too caught up in her excitement to notice my reaction; I was both annoyed and relieved by this. I pried her fingers from the strong excited grip, and I felt like I could take a breath again.

"What was it?" I cleared my throat when it was apparent that she wasn't going to continue until I guessed some fact that had her practically bursting at the seams.

"I couldn't hear his thoughts" she dropped her voice low and leaned in like it was secret. My eyebrows rose surprised by this revelation.

"I know, right? It was bliss for those few seconds. I spoke to him afterwards after I tried to warn him about the Rattrays and he is a vampire! Merlotte's got its very first vampire! Can you believe that Whit? Since you wouldn't share _your_ vampire." I was a little shocked, not expecting a vampire to show up in a backwater town like this one. I was a marginally offended by labelling Mason as my vampire. No one is someone else's property, no matter who you are. It took me months and months to gain Mason's trust, and I wasn't going to betray that.

"I'm stunned that a vampire would be here of all places."

"His name is Bill, Bill Compton. He came to take care of the old Compton place now that old Jesse has passed on."

I hummed my mind spinning back to noticing the car parked in the driveway a few days previous. It made sense now. I look back at Sookie, and I am worried about her getting caught up in some Mills and Boon fantasy romance that she has built up in her mind. This could be a dangerous thing for her.

"He's coming over tonight...well later after we have all finished eating." Sookie turned in her seat to look behind her at the antique clock hanging on the kitchen wall. "Oh, my lord look at the time! I need to go freshen up. Whitney if he comes while I am still gettin' ready could you help Gran out with hostin'?"

"Of course Sookie" before I had finished getting the words out she was running out of the room and up the stairs. I looked at the plates strewn across the table and the half-eaten pie left in the tin, that I am sure Jason will demolish tomorrow at lunchtime. I sighed and stood to at least clear the table and wipe it down. I could see into the family room, and Adele was dusting her shelves that displayed her prized family china and other nik naks. I smiled because there probably wasn't a speck of dust on those objects, but her ingrained habit ran too deep ever to stop.

After twenty minutes, I had finished cleaning up using the time to gather my thoughts about meeting this mysterious Bill and wondering why Eric hadn't mentioned that a vampire had moved into my area. He had also been hounding me through text messages, wanting a _status update_ like I was one of his underlings. I rolled my eyes. The truth was I was a little worried if he would ask for something in return. Vincent never did anything if it didn't benefit him in some way and he _always_ demanded recompense. I won't lie, Eric was alluring in his dominating way, power oozed off him. It was arousing- but deeply unsettling for me. It confused me. I haven't been aroused in a long, _long_ time. Once Vince started _doing_ things, I stamped that feeling down and locked it away. Now, however, my body was beginning to betray me.

A confident knock sounded at the door. I pulled the plug in the sink and dried my hands while walking over to the doorway of the kitchen. I had a direct view of the front door and leaned my hip against the frame watching to see if this was indeed Bill Compton.

I watched Adele trying to smooth the wrinkles out of her dress with her hands and fix her hair as a southern lady should. She opened to the door without fuss and smiled at the dark-haired man. From here, I could make out his kind smile and dark eyes. I was trying hard to reserve judgement until I knew the man. He was older than Sookie- I don't mean in vampiric years because _that is a given,_ but I mean when he died he was older-at least ten to fifteen years.

"Whitney, stop hoverin' in the doorway like a racoon waitin' for scraps and come over here and introduce yourself" I blinked owlishly because I hadn't been paying attention for the last minute or so lost in my thoughts. I scolded myself internally for not being prepared when an unknown man was in the room- a vampire no less. _Stupid Whitney_, Vincent's voice bounced around in my head.

I approached Bill cautiously, and I tried not to let my fears and insecurities get in the way. I didn't hold my hand out knowing vampires didn't do handshakes.

"I'm Whitney, nice to meet you, Mr Compton" my lips pulled up into what I hoped resembled a smile. After Adele had shuffled off to put the kettle on and set the table, I felt Bill's eyes on me. All over me.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Whitney, and please call me Bill, Mr Compton reminds me of my father."

"Sure. I would offer you something to drink, but I am remiss in my knowledge if Sookie purchased any libation that suits your dietary restriction" I sounded ridiculously formal, but I felt thrown by his perusal of me. It wasn't sexual; he was assessing something. His eyes were calculating, most people would have missed it, but dealing with the criminal class all day you pick up a few things.

"That is alright I ate before I came over" I tried not to envision what he was_ eating_ before he came over. While I had no issues with vampires per se, it was still unsettling to think about them_ feeding_.

I cleared my throat and gesturing to the couch. "Why don't you take a seat and get comfortable, Adele will clip my ears if I don't extend hospitalities in a timely manner".

Bill's eyes went to the kitchen and seconds later I could hear Sookie's southern drawl and her being directed to grab a tray.

Adele comes out holding a tray with tea ready to be served, and I have a feeling she has forgotten that Bill is a vampire. I feel momentarily out of place; it's too much like a family affair. However, I don't have time to dwell on that feeling as Jason bursts through the door.

Jason is a good looking guy, but a little dim for my tastes. He is wearing well-worn jeans with stubborn grease stains that have created an abstract effect on the denim covering his thighs, and his old Bon Temps high school shirt which I am amazed still fits and has survived this long. He looks a little lost blinking rapidly like he is confused by this image that Sookie has a _boy_ over. His hair is sticking up at all angles, and his face is flushed and sweaty. I narrow my eyes, it now dawning on the fact that he is late because he has been _tumbling in the sheets. _My theory is confirmed by Bill sniffing the air then coughing awkwardly.

"What is going on here?" he asks, puffing his chest out, I have to physically bite my tongue to stop the laugh that has caught in my throat from escaping. To me, male posturing is pointless- they just plain look ridiculous.

"I have a date, Jason. This is Bill. Bill, this is my brother, Jason."

"A_ date_? You have a _date_?" A rush of indignation floods through me on behalf of Sookie. I go to open my mouth, but Sookie explodes before I can even think of what I was going to say.

"Jason Stackhouse, you shut your mouth this _instant_! You will be nice, besides you have no place to judge me, mister!" Jason gapes like a fish, stunned. His eyes flick to Adele, and his gaze immediately drops to the floor in shame. His hand reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, and his t-shirt rides up, giving us a glimpse of the fresh hickey that is on his hip. Sookie scoffs loudly in disgust.

"Jason, you will go upstairs and get cleaned up. We have a guest in my house, and you will respect that"Adele says firmly with an unimpressed look etched across her face.

"Yes, ma'am" he grumbles but shuffles off upstairs to the bathroom.

"I am so sorry Mr Compton, Jason is normally a nice boy" Adele tries to smooth over the embarrassing situation. Bill just smiles but looks sceptical at the _nice boy_ part. Overall, Jason is mostly a good brother- he is protective of Sookie, but he can be incredibly selfish.

"Alright, I think it is my turn to head off. Adele thank you for having me over, Sookie have fun and Bill nice to meet you."

"Alright, my dear. Do you need someone to walk you home?" I moved around to embrace Adele, shaking my head.

"No, I'll be fine; it's only five minutes. I'll come around after I finish my shift tomorrow and you can tell me all the goss Sook" I smiled and nodded to her, still a little worried about leaving her with Bill, this unknown man. I grabbed my handbag and left through the front door out into the humid night wondering what tomorrow was going to be like, would I have any more nightmares about Vincent and if this persistent headache would still be pounding in the morning.

* * *

**Eric POV**

_"Eric_" a soft but firm voice sounded out from the receiver. In the quiet solitude of the office, Godric's voice was like a sonic boom rattling Eric's entire being. It had shaken loose a deep longing that he hadn't allowed himself to feel for five decades.

"Master" he choked out, his throat thick with the upswell of emotion he only ever allowed Godric to see and on occasion Pam.

_"Eric, it has been too long. I am sorry my child"_, Godric sounded as forlorn as he did, he wished to reach out through the bond they shared but found it was still closed off.

"I was foolish and impetuous. I should have heeded your sound counsel, father."

"_That is in the past now my child, and I want to move forward",_ Godric while young looking, had a strength that wrapped around him and made you pay attention.

"What made you call now?" Eric didn't really care; he was just so relieved that Godric had reached out. But he was curious as too why now.

"_I have been staring at a squeeze toy of Asterix the Gaul, that has been sitting on my desk for a while now. It came with a note, saying I need to call you, to mend our relationship- it was rather touching even with the threat of bodily harm_" Eric didn't care one bit about the note, he was just happy that it sounded like Godric was _smiling_, it pained him to think that he couldn't remember the last time his beloved master had genuinely plastered on a happy face.

_"That is not the only reason I called"_ His voice had turned sharp and serious, which made Eric snap to attention awaiting his masters' instructions.

"I am listening my father"


End file.
